Warmth
by Ariyah
Summary: Being a wintery spirit has its perks, but it's a cold and lonely existence. Warmth isn't a foreign concept, so why can't Jack fathom out its mystery? By Ariel of Narnia.


**Disclaimer:** I never "did" Santa or the Easter Bunny or the Tooth Fairy, so don't look at me.

* * *

Dark. Cold. Fear.

Those are the first things Jack can remember. Before he was born – or raised, whichever – from the lake.

Light. Cold. Happiness.

Those are the things that followed immediately after. When he saw the moon full and bright, the snow and ice that gleamed all around him, and the things he suddenly found himself able to do: releasing bursts of feathery frost and even flying! And then – what was that? Somewhere not far off, was a yellow glow, a stark contrast from the bluish white he'd seen thus far. As such, it bore investigating.

Light. Warmth. Life.

All were present in the village he landed in. Open fires and music and people – just like him! – walking about and talking to each other. "Hello," Jack said with a wave. "Hello. Good evening, ma'am. Ma'am?" Perhaps he was interrupting. A little boy and the dog he chased ran toward Jack. "Excuse me," Jack addressed him, "Can you tell me where I am?" The boy paid no heed. He didn't even slow down or turn to avoid Jack. He ran _through_ him.

Shock. Cold. Fear.

What just happened? Jack clutched at his chest. He could feel his wrap, his shirt, his heartbeat. How could the boy pass right through him? What was going on? What did it mean? That same queer feeling washed over him again as someone else passed through him. "Hello?" he called in a panic. A third person walked into him and right back out. Jack retreated back into the snowy, moonlit wood, away from the village.

Dark. Cold. Loneliness.

Was that all he was ever to know?

xXx

In time, Jack invented ways of filling the void. The cold that had scared him when he first awoke was now his pride and joy. He loved a good crispness in the air, a chilly bite in the wind, and, best of all, swirling snowflakes, intricate frost patterns, and icy surfaces. No amount of heat compared to the thrill he felt when he brought a fresh wave of frost to any area of the world.

But as much as it all amused him, the best part was seeing the kids who enjoyed his gifts. Adults were no fun because so few of them seemed to like Jack's weather, but the kids would have snowball fights, build snowmen and snow-forts, go tobogganing down the hills of their choosing, skate in rinks or on ponds – there seemed no end to the possibilities. Sometimes, they'd even have a day off school, and that alone seemed to make a number of them happy in parts of the world.

Oftentimes, Jack would join in their games or start them himself, even though they never knew he did. A well-aimed snowball could begin a burst of fun. Then there were the times Jack had the impulse to amp things up by causing some mischief. He lost count of how many sheets of paper had fluttered away when he rode the wind or how many people he'd caused to slip on a patch of ice or how many tongues he'd frozen in fountain water. His best work yet was making one kid in particular careen through town on his sled. Sure, it was a bit dangerous, but Jack was in control and the boy started laughing soon enough. Even landing head-first in a snowdrift didn't faze the kid: he popped right up, gushing in his excitement.

Jack knew all their names. This one was Jamie. Over there were Pippa and Monty. That one was Bridget, but everyone called her "Cupcake". Of this group, Jamie was Jack's favourite: he believed in all the things some of the others had grown out of.

Including the Tooth Fairy, whom Jamie credited with his wild career through town when he held up his trophy of a lost tooth. That mislaid credit stung. Jack didn't have anything against the Tooth Fairy, but it hurt to be disregarded like that. He'd never met anyone who had ever seen him, but there was a difference between ignorance and mislaid credit – at least, he liked to think so. "That wasn't the Tooth Fairy, that was me!" he called after the kids. He leapt up and landed in front of Jamie. "What's a guy gotta do to get some attention around here?"

Jamie and that familiar cold shock passed through him. What was the use of trying? If anyone could have seen Jack, it would have been Jamie. And if Jamie didn't believe in him, Jack was certainly doomed to a life of cold loneliness.

xXx

The bedside lamp cast a soft orange glow on the pictures on the wall, on the toys on the floor, and on the three inhabitants – four, if the dog counted.

Jamie had just finished recounting his day. "You wanna help me, Soph? We could hide and see the Tooth Fairy!"

Little Sophie bounced on the bed. "Hide, hide, hide, hide, hide!"

"Nuh-uh, straight to bed now."

"Mo-om…."

Their mother scooped up Sophie and held her in a gentle embrace while the dog hopped up onto Jamie's bed and proceeded to attack him with slobbery kisses.

From his inverted perch outside, Jack took it all in. The little family's happiness brought a small smile to his lips, but the moment was fleeting. Sure, he was all about fun and laughter and good times – all of which were present within this house and among Jamie and his friends earlier in the day – but he wondered what it would be like to _share_ that with them, instead of being on the outside looking in. There was a special kind of magic in it that Jack had never, ever experienced. He wasn't quite sure what it was called, but it was almost like… like warmth.

Warmth wasn't a foreign concept, exactly. Warmth came from the sun or from fires or from any number of machines or even people, so long as they didn't walk through him. Warmth was what Jack sensed before he sprung snow days and frosty surfaces upon unsuspecting localities. But inner warmth, the sort he'd heard people talk about, was not something Jack had known for himself.

Honestly, he was starting to wonder if that kind of warmth was just a myth, or maybe a metaphor at best. As if to drive it home, fresh frost on the window reinforced his distance from the mystery that was warmth.

xXx

It was warm in the workshop at the North Pole, but Jack wasn't feeling it. He'd been here many times, though never as an invited guest, or, in this case, kidnapped. And that was it, wasn't it? The Guardians of Childhood – Nicholas St North, Bunnymund, Toothiana, and Sanderson Mansnoozie – wanted something from him. They tried to make him a Guardian, but what for? He wasn't like them. They didn't know him, not really, and Bunny actually hated him. All they could really say was that the Man in the Moon chose Jack to join their ranks and that seemed to be all they cared.

Jack really did have something against the Man in the Moon. All Jack had ever got from him was his name and a cold shoulder. So what did Jack care? He was better off alone in the cold outside than forced into this equally cold club.

What did pique his attention was that he could regain his memories of the past life he didn't know he had. Perhaps if he found them, they could provide him with a purpose, help him find that warmth that always eluded him. The only condition: help stop the Boogeyman from making Jack's world everyone else's world: dark, fearful, and cold.

Jack agreed and found that the Guardians weren't so bad after all – not even Bunny –, but even more than that, they really needed – _wanted_ – him. At the very least, Jack was sure he felt a little more than just the heat of North's reassuring hand on his shoulder.

xXx

The Boogeyman's voice was soft, almost gentle. "Do you want them, Jack? Your memories?"

He'd been lured here, to this dark hole in the earth, by a warm voice that called him by name. Not Pitch Black's. A voice he… recognized somehow. He hadn't been afraid when he came down here to what could be no less than Pitch's lair, filled with stolen memories. And there, in Pitch's hand, were Jack's. Everything Jack had ever wanted to know, only a couple feet away! But now? Now the fear was setting in.

"Why did you end up like this?" Pitch taunted him from the shadows. "Unseen. Unable to reach out to anyone. You want the answers so badly. You want to grab them and fly off with them, but you're afraid of what the Guardians will think."

Jack cowered. The darkness enveloped him. The cold he always felt increased. The fear he had long suppressed filled his mind with doubt. And then Pitch simply _gave_ him his memories.

But the mere possession of the box was not enough. The Guardians lost their trust in him and any semblance of warmth Jack felt from them was gone. Well, let them believe what they would about him. He withdrew to Antarctica, where no one would seek him out and he would cause no further harm. There, it was cold. There, he was at home. But even there, he found no solace. Was it right to hope now that his memories would do him any good? Perhaps it would be better to just… end here.

He steeled himself to cast away his memories, but couldn't bring himself to do it. What did he have to lose? He opened the box, filling his mind with glimpses of the past. Sunlight and laughter, firelight and play. His lake. Only this time, everything was illuminated not by the moon, but by the sun. It was warm for a winter day, but nothing like the moment his world brightened in a pair of happy brown eyes and a relieved smile.

He was _warm_! Jack couldn't feel it, but he remembered it!

And then lake opened its icy mouth and swallowed him, dragging him down into the cold, cold dark, never to feel that warmth again.

But that didn't matter anymore. He'd saved his sister that day and that memory was enough.

xXx

It wasn't cold in Jamie's room, but it sure was dark. He was the last to hold on, but he was on the brink of joining all the other children who no longer did. So Jack did the only thing he could do: he made it cold in Jamie's room. He frosted the windows and drew pictures with his finger. He made one of them come to life and then burst in the air like a firework. He watched wonder and hope return to Jamie's eyes. And then –

"Jack Frost."

No one but the Guardians had ever addressed him. No one had ever known to. "That's right! But that's me. Jack Frost! That's my name! You said my name!"

Jamie was staring. But could that mean…?

"Wait, can you hear me?"

Jamie nodded.

"Can you… can you see me?"

Jamie nodded again.

A wild joy swelled up in Jack. No amount of wind-riding, snow-making, or mischief-playing could compare to that feeling inside. It thrilled him, tingled through him, and all around felt good. Was it warmth? Jack wasn't certain, but what did it matter? His chief duty was to protect children like Jamie, just as he had his sister, and if he could fulfill that purpose, then his life would be complete.

xXx

Jack had never felt happier in his life. His mission was successful: he was a Guardian, both in deed and in title. Now it was time to say goodbye.

"You're leaving?" Jamie asked. "But what if Pitch comes back? What if we stop believing again?"

Jack laid his hand on Jamie's shoulder – the fact that he could do so felt good – and crouched down. "We'll always be there, Jamie. And now, we'll always be here." He pointed at Jamie's heart, warm and softly beating. "Which kinda makes you a Guardian too." The smile returned to Jamie's face and Jack stood to join the other Guardians.

"Jack!"

Jack turned to see Jamie running at him. Jack steeled himself for the cold shock that always followed, but instead, just as surely as he had touched Jamie, Jamie's arms wrapped around Jack's waist. Jack gasped in surprise before he bent down again to return the hug.

At long last, he finally felt warm.

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